


Reflections of You

by kasprina



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Jason Todd is Red Hood, POV Second Person, Protective Jason Todd, Reader-Insert, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Soft Jason Todd, Soulmates, because I need it dammit, but isolated and not a common thing at all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29767641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kasprina/pseuds/kasprina
Summary: Being new to Gotham meant vigilantes were still shiny and new and fun to spot leaping on rooftops. But that didn't mean you expected to find one bleeding out on your fire escape. Or that he'd keep coming back.--Soulmate AU where you've been drawing your soulmate's face your entire lifeStory is completed and updating weekly
Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Female Character(s), Jason Todd/Reader, Red Hood/Reader
Comments: 16
Kudos: 120





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this soulmates prompt: you’ve been sketching your soulmate’s face since you were old enough to pick up a pencil, the drawings become more realistic through the years as the day you meet comes near

It's spring so that means spring cleaning, right? Or at least, it's time to get rid of the junk cluttering your spare room turned art studio. Cheap Gotham apartments didn't really allow the space to be a pack rat. But as you looked at the box in your hands, you knew you could never get rid of this one. 

You opened it up and began flipping through some of the drawings. They went all the way back to elementary school, though back then they were no more than awkward drawings of the same person and face done in an unskilled child's hand. Then there was the sixth grade phase of drawing that same face with vaguely anime-like proportions. You quickly shuffled that to the bottom of the pile. 

It started to get better in high school. The face looked more distinct now, less generic and with definable features. Even the full body drawings you did actually had some kind of movement and life to them as they were mostly drawn in action shots. It was interesting seeing what two decades worth of improvement drawing the same subject looked like.

“What's this?” A heavily synthesized voice asked. You glanced over your shoulder to see the Red Hood, guns and all, leaning in the doorway. The now familiar sharp smell of metal and smoke hung on him. It was barely 1 a.m. so it must be a slow night. 

“You can come in,” you turned back to the papers, “it's just some old art that I've saved over the years.” 

“You draw?” Hood slid down the wall across from you, kicking out one long armored leg. “No shit, I had no idea.” He laughed when you smacked his leg.

Befriending a vigilante was absolutely not on your mind when you'd moved to Gotham for college. And yet, there he’d been, bleeding all over your fire escape one night. 

Even though you'd heard people whispering about the Red Hood, about him being a crime lord, you'd heard just as many stories about him working with Batman. So he couldn't be all bad, right? 

And he hadn't blown your head off when he woke up to you stitching the gash in his leg, so bonus points there.

“Any funny business and I'll shoot faster than you can blink.” A synthesized voice threatened. His voice modulator had been terrifying then, not at all what you'd expected him to sound like (which made sense seeing as he was beating people up in the streets). 

You lifted your hands from the wound as his crept towards his thigh holsters. “Well I've got a rent payment due in a week so I'm not trying to get shot.” 

“You a doctor?” 

“I'm a med student. Or was a med student. Anyway, you were passed out on my fire escape. I couldn't just leave you there.”

“Shit, ‘Wing’s gonna freak.” he muttered and let his head fall back on the floor. 

“Can I…?” You motioned to the wounds and he nodded.

When you finished bandaging him, he staggered to his feet and headed to the open window. “Thanks. I'd leave you my insurance card but…” He shrugged, fired his grappling gun, and disappeared despite your protests.

The next time he’d shown up (with the daggers  _ still _ sticking out of his shoulder!) you insisted that he stay. 

“Why should I listen to you?” He argued as you shoved him towards the sofa and stuffed a blanket in his arms. It was a good question considering he was armed and you weren’t. “You said you're not even a med student anymore. What happened, you kill somebody and they kicked you out the program?” 

“No I uh…” You looked away, “I have an Etsy store selling my artwork and it took off and I decided maybe I didn't want to do another eight years of school. I liked art more.” 

Hood stared at you in silence. Then he let out a loud electronic laugh “No shit. I'm getting stitched up by Salvador Dali.”

“I had very good grades in school, thank you very much! So I'm not a total quack.” 

“No, no I'm not mad.” Hood laughed again. “This is perfect. Hey, if I put an order in, will you give me free shipping?” You threw a pillow at his head and he laughed even harder.

He kept coming around after that, sometimes injured, sometimes not. Those nights he just seemed to want company for a couple hours. The helmet stayed on though, despite promising not to sell him out to the first mobster you met. Maybe he took it off after you went to bed and he was crashing on the couch (always gone in the morning before you woke). But you promised not to peek so his face would have to remain a mystery.

A cute mystery hopefully. 

“Don't you work with Batman?” You asked one day as you tweezed glass and gravel out of his side, trying to focus on the wound and not the abs. Could you even have a crush on someone if you didn't know what their face looked like or their voice even sounded like?

Because if so, you had a  _ massive _ one on the Red Hood. And if you weren't sure before, the day you saw him kicking drug dealer ass by the bus stop followed by him insisting on giving you a ride home via grapple gun, cemented it. 

“Pretty sure he has better medical equipment than I ever will. Isn’t that Wayne guy bankrolling him? Maybe he has a cute son so I can marry rich.” 

Hood snorted (or what you thought was an electronic version of a snort). “Yeah but he's further away. You're right around the corner. Plus getting stitched up by an artist makes me feel like a work of art.” Now it was your turn to snort. 

Despite his teasing, Hood seemed to be a genuine fan of your art, always eager to see your new pieces. 

Go figure. A gun toting vigilante was your cheerleader.

Tonight he picked up one of the drawings closer to him, thankfully a decent looking one from high school, and studied it. “Who's this?” 

“It's just some character I've been drawing literally my entire life.” You held up an old sketch from elementary school. “For some reason this face has always stuck with me.” 

Hood picked up a college era sketch. Each of your recent ones had more and more distinguishing details, making each one feel more alive. As if a little more personality were showing through. In your hands you held one from a week ago, a full-sized portrait with the man looking slightly off to the side, into the distance. 

“This is the most recent one I've done. I think it's my favorite too.” He not only had the streak of white hair that you'd added a couple of years ago but a small scar by the right eyebrow too and now a knick on their jaw. The corner of his mouth was curled into what could almost be a smile. And those were just a few of the significant features. This one had so much minute detail it could have been photo realistic.

“He looked sad in a lot of my older drawings. But now...I think he looks peaceful. Honestly, I'm amazed I managed to capture so much personality in it. It makes me wonder what color his eyes are. I've only drawn him in pencil. And it feels weird calling him...him. I wonder what his name is.” 

Suddenly realizing how utterly crazy you sounded, you glanced up at the Red Hood with a blush. “I know I could just make up a name, it's a character that I've created, but I don't know. He feels real and none of the names I've thought of fit him.”

The Red Hood stared back at you, silent and unmoving. The drawing he'd been holding lay discarded on the pile with the others. Oh great. The gunman who put on a costume and beat up people as a hobby thought  _ you _ were the crazy one now. 

“Anyway, it's just some art.” You started to gather all the drawings up flustered. But his gloved hand stilled yours.

“Why do you want to know?” He asked in what sounded like an attempt at a soft voice. The blank white eyes of the mask bored into you.

“I want to know his story.” You answered honestly.

He sat still as a statue for another minute. Then he slowly reached up and unlatched his helmet with a soft hiss of air. “His eyes are blue.” He pulled the hood off and set it in his lap. His real voice was deep, a hint of roughness to it. But unlike the modulated one, it had a smooth warmth to it. “Or if you want to get technical,” Hood peeled off the red domino mask and his eyes hesitantly met yours. “Teal.”

Compared to your drawings, the face before you now was bursting with life. It took your breath away. There was that strong jaw you'd been trying to capture for years, the exact curve of his nose, the small scar by his brow, sharp eyes, the exact amount of freckles there should be on his cheeks, the light bounce in his messy black waves with that striking shock of white. All that was missing was the subtle, peaceful smile he'd had in the last drawing.

“And his name?” The words were barely a whisper.

“Jason Todd.”

You couldn't help but move closer. Slowly, so he could stop you if he wanted, you raised a hand to Hood's–no, Jason’s–face. Awestruck, you traced his cheekbones, down to his jaw, up to his brow, swiped a thumb across his freckles. 

“That fits.” You said, smiling at him, “Hi Jason.”

There was that gentle smile at last. 

“Hi.” Jason said with a small chuckle. His warm and calloused hand found your face, gloves discarded, and ran his thumb tenderly across your cheek, like you'd done to him. “Guess we were always destined to meet, huh?” 

“I guess so.” You were still mesmerized, drinking in every single detail. There was an overwhelming sense of relief and you were sure Jason felt it too since the tension had melted away from his face and shoulders.

“And I guess I can finally do this.” Jason whispered before he leaned in and kissed you. His lips were slightly chapped but warm, firm, and gentle. So incredibly gentle. When he finally broke away, your head was spinning, gripping his wrists as if to steady yourself.

“You certainly took your time.” You said once you caught your breath. Jason laughed and pressed your foreheads together. It made your stomach flutter. His pulse beat like a drum under your fingertips, reminding you this was real.  _ He _ was real.

“Had to wait ‘till you got my good side.” And with a cheeky grin, he caught your mouth in another searing kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason expecting to chill with his crush: what up-  
> The dozens of drawings of his face all over the floor: 👁👄👁  
> Jason: ayo what the f-
> 
> \---
> 
> This is my first Reader fic so thanks for reading! It was supposed to just be a single one shot but I have so many ideas that I might be adding another chapter or two...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The insatiable urge to draw him that had accompanied you most of your life was gone now. But you still drew him, able to finally add colors to the art, bringing out even more life than before. 
> 
> And while you had fun capturing epic images of the Red Hood in action, you had a sketchbook full of scenes like this. Quiet, simple, horribly domestic scenes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring soft Jason and a smidge of plot

The smell hit you first, a wave of spices and other delightful flavors. Closing the door with your hip, you rushed to kick off your shoes. “What's cooking good looking?” You sang as you slid into the kitchen. 

Jason stood over the stove, still wearing his combat pants. His armored top had been removed leaving only his form fitting undershirt. “Dinner,'' he answered. 

“Well obviously.” You curled your arms around his waist, leaning your head against his shoulder. “But what  _ is _ dinner?” 

“A surprise.” He kissed your head and turned back to the pot he was stirring. “It's a recipe I learned when I was younger.” 

“Really? Who taught you?” 

Jason hesitated for a moment. “My grandfather.” 

“That's sweet.” He didn't talk much about his past and that was fine. He gave what he could and you'd learned that he always spoke when he was ready. The past couple months had been full of revelations like that. 

Even though Jason already knew so much about you from his previous visits, he was getting to know you freely as himself. And you were finally getting to know Jason Todd, the man behind the Red Hood. It was  _ fantastic _ . But it hadn't all been sunshine and sparkles. 

That night when you'd kissed for the first time, you spent the next hour paging through more of the drawings with Jason, explaining what you could. And then you were pretty sure both of you fell asleep on the couch. 

But you woke up alone. Which made sense, the Red Hood couldn't exactly be caught in your building's elevator. But when Jason showed up late that night, you could tell something was eating at him. When you casually mention the word soulmates, because what other explanation could there be, he flinched. 

“You don't want me as a soulmate.” He mumbled. 

“You've spent the whole day overthinking this, haven't you?” He didn't answer, wouldn't meet your eyes. As if he were scared. Carefully, you laid a hand on his arm. After a beat his other hand hesitantly crept towards yours, knitting your fingers together. 

“Jason, I don't know what this is,” You admitted, “But it's  _ ours _ . It's ours and we can make it what we want. So let's take it slow,” You squeezed his fingers. “We don't have to rush, we can go at a pace that's comfortable.” 

The look that he gave you was so vulnerable, teal eyes filled with gratitude and a tenderness that made you want to bundle him up and hide him away from the world, from whatever made him think he could ruin this by being himself. 

He kissed your knuckles reverently. “Sounds good to me, Monet.” 

The two of you fell into a sort of routine full of big and little revelations. One of those was that Jason was more romantic than you expected. Sometimes your dates would be like any other normal couple going out on the town. Dinner, movies, lunch in the park, the circus. Fun and thoughtful. 

Sometimes, the Red Hood would come swinging into your apartment, scoop you up, and take you flying across Gotham, holding you steady on a gargoyle high above the colorful streets. Several times those nights ended with a rooftop dinner, complete with a candle and lady and the tramp jokes neither of you could resist. 

And other nights were like tonight, a home-cooked meal, take-out if you were both exhausted, and easy company. 

At times the revelations were a little harder.

It was two weeks after the kiss, four days after you’d convinced Jason to stop sleeping on the sofa because your bed could fit you both dammit. If he was only sleeping a few hours, at least they should be a restful few hours.

But they weren’t restful tonight and a ragged scream made you bolt upright in bed, heart thundering. “What’s wrong?” You gasped, feeling blindly for the lamp switch. “Jay? What’s going on?” The yellow light illuminated Jason hunched on the edge of the bed, head bowed, and trembling. The covers were a twisted mess. Sweat glistened on his neck. “Jason?” You whispered, a wave of fear crashing over you.

“Gimme–” his voice cracked, raw and scratchy. “Need a minute.” He finally forced out.

“Okay. Want me to leave?” A pause then he shook his head. So you stayed, clutching the blanket around your shoulders and working on slowing your heart rate down to a healthy speed again. 

After several long minutes, his hand groped behind him on the bed and you caught it in yours. Jason held it tight as he took several deep breaths. Then he lifted his head at last and slowly, almost mechanically, turned to face you. 

“Sorry.” His whispered, voice still far too rough for your liking. “I get nightmares. Not as much anymore but...” His eyes dropped to his lap, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. “Should’ve told you before all of this.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” You whispered and lay a hand on his cheek. Jason leaned into the touch. “You can tell me now if you’re ready. Or later if you need more time.” A debate raged clear as day on his face, ending with a small sigh.

“I, uh, I used to be Robin. When I was a kid. Batman caught me jacking his tires and decided I passed the interview.” A tiny, surprised laugh escaped you and Jason smiled too. “Great start, right? Anyway, when I was fifteen,” his hand tightened around yours, “I got caught by the Joker and he...he murdered me.” 

Your stomach dropped, bed tilting beneath you for a moment. “I know,” Jason scoffed under his breath, “I look great for a dead man. The universe decided it wasn’t done yanking me around and teamed up with a bunch of assassins to resurrect me. But it had side effects that lasted for a long time.” He finally met your eyes. “I’m on the other side of it now. Mostly. Still get nightmares like this every now and then.”

“Jason,” You breathed, heat prickling in your eyes. “I don’t know what to say. I'm so sorry–”

He flinched. “It’s alright, I get it. I can leave–”

“–and thank you for sharing that with me.” Jason’s eyes flew open wide. You shook your head incredulously at him. “Wait, did you think I was going to kick you out?” 

A tiny shrug, teal eyes still fixed on your face. “That’s just the abridged version.” He whispered in a tight voice.

“Okay.” You nodded. “Tell me the rest later, when you’re ready. Or never. Still won’t change the fact that you’ve overcome so much and I’m so proud of you and I’m definitely not kicking you out.” 

Jason bit his lip, a shine gathering in his eyes. Then he tipped forward into your waiting arms, letting you pull him back onto the bed and throw the blanket over you both, making soothing noises as his shoulders hitched sporadically. You stayed holding each other until morning.

Eventually he told you pieces. A brief story after a night patrolling with Nightwing or Red Robin. A bit more during a 2am conversation. One line after seeing Batman’s shadow fly past on the rooftops. Sometimes the words came easily. Other times they sounded like they caused him physical pain. If it fit, you thanked him for telling you, for trusting you. If not, you gave his hand a squeeze and an acknowledging silence, watching as bit by bit weight slid from his shoulders.

Jason was one of the strongest people you ever met. He had every right to be bitter and angry and tell the world to go screw itself. But he didn’t. The Red Hood was a hero. And Jason was still giving, caring, thoughtful, constantly sweeping you off your feet, sometimes literally. 

He was the best thing in your life.

Paint-splattered clothes dumped in the tub, you quickly changed into yoga pants and one of Jason’s shirts that he’d started leaving here. Tonight’s was a gift from Nightwing, a Batman and Robin shirt that Jason rolled his eyes at when he ripped off the electric blue paper. 

“ _ ‘Thanks for the help’ _ , the little shit. I’m kicking Wing’s ass, gimme five.” He’d growled, climbing back out the window as you’d laughed. 

You wandered back into the heavenly smelling kitchen, dragging a hand absentmindedly across Jason's back as you passed him. “Hey, do you have spare jackets?” 

“Yeah, bought them in bulk at Costco.” Jason snorted. Something sizzled as he dropped it into the pan. 

“Well I hope you're being serious because you're going to need one.” You snagged his leather jacket from the chair it was thrown over and slipped it on. It smelled like gunsmoke and polish, faded cologne and soap, sweat and the night air. It smelled like Jason. You weren’t ashamed to say on nights he didn’t come over, you cuddled his pillow at night. “This is mine now.” 

He turned and fixed you with a skeptical look, one eyebrow raised. “And exactly who do you think you are, stealing the Red Hood’s jacket?” 

“The Red Hood's girlfriend.” You winked. For a split second, so quick you almost missed it, Jason faltered. You knew why immediately. But before you could say another word, Jason was inches away from you, hands planted on the table, trapping you between his arms. 

There was a playful light in his eyes as he leaned over you. “Does the Red Hood know he's your boyfriend?” 

With a shrug, you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “Guess I'll just have to ask him. Jason Todd, are you my boyfriend?” 

Jason leaned down and kissed you slow and deep. Then he pulled back with a grin. “Yeah, I'll be your boyfriend.” 

A stupid smile grew on your face as you reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Not too fast?” You asked. 

“Perfect timing, Frieda Kahlo.” He whispered and you rolled your eyes. 

“You're going to run out of famous artists one day and then you'll have to actually come up with a real nickname.” 

“But that day isn't today.” The timer beeped and with a quick kiss he turned back to the stove. 

Dinner was delicious as always. After you'd finished telling him about your day you managed to coax some details about the night's patrol from him. It was fascinating to you and as much as Jason went on and on about keeping you out of all his “messy as shit mask life” it was always fun when he relented and opened up. 

As you reached for his empty plate, because the very least you could do after these amazing meals he cooked was wash up, you stopped and gently turned his face up to you. He looked more worn out than usual, dark circles under his eyes sitting a little heavier, mouth set a little tighter. 

“When was the last time you got some decent sleep?” 

Jason shrugged sheepishly. “Probably last week when I slept here.” 

That was something Jason still insisted on doing from before. More often than not he'd leave before dawn and return to his safe house if he’d arrived in his Red Hood getup, going on about keeping you safe and not being followed. And even though you protested and kept offering, you never pushed too much. If that was the pace he needed, if it eased his worries about your safety, then you were okay with it. 

But what you  _ weren't _ okay with was Jason running himself ragged chasing mob goons all over Gotham. “Stay here tonight. Get some sleep. Or you'll be tripping on fire escapes again and busting your lip open and then I won't be able to kiss you for a week.” 

“That was one time.” Jason grumbled. But he didn't fight back and you washed dishes with a smug smile. He tried the whole ‘I'll sleep on the couch to keep you safe from intruders’ line but you were prepared. 

“Come watch trashy reality TV with me.” You begged. “Please Jay? I like watching them with someone else.” 

He hesitated, eyes flickering between you and the couch. Both of you knew if he slept in the bed, he wasn’t leaving before dawn. Then he heaved a dramatic sigh. “Oh all right.” He relented and followed you into the bedroom. 

You popped the laptop open on a chair beside the bed, hit play, then snuggled under the comforter with Jason. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you against his muscular chest as you leaned against the headboard together. 

“You and Di–Wing with these damn shows.” 

“You like them too.” You protested.

Jason chuckled, lips pressed to your hair before drifting to kiss behind your ear. “Yeah but nobody knows and that's the point.” 

After one episode you'd both migrated from the headboard to laying down in the bed. Jason still had his arms wrapped around your waist but his head was pillowed on your chest now, eyes fighting to stay open. 

“Jay, if you're tired just go to sleep.” You laughed as you carded your fingers through his hair, twirling the white streak, other arm wrapped around his shoulders. 

“How can I sleep when they're about to fight in the middle of a restaurant?” His eyes fluttered shut again then snapped open. 

You bit back another laugh. “That happened like 10 minutes ago.” 

“Really?” Jason blinked. “Fuck, I'm tired.” He mumbled and finally gave in, closing his eyes and getting comfortable on your stomach.

By the end of the second episode he was well and truly out, shoulders rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. You shut the laptop then went back to running your fingers through his hair. The insatiable urge to draw him that had accompanied you most of your life was gone now. But you still drew him, able to finally add colors to the art, bringing out even more life than before. 

And while you had fun capturing epic images of the Red Hood in action, you had a sketchbook full of scenes like this. Quiet, simple, horribly domestic scenes. As you drifted off to sleep, hand buried in your boyfriend's hair, you couldn't help but think that yeah, this was a good pace.

***

The scent of paint hung heavy in the air and you wrenched the studio window open for some slightly cleaner night air. “Jason’s gonna be pissed if he finds me passed out on the floor.” You muttered to yourself as you walked out to the living room. 

Usually you wouldn’t spend the entire day working on commissions for this reason but you wanted to get as much done as possible before Jason arrived for the night. You’d been planning your argument for ordering food from the new Thai place down the street all day. Yellow curry sounded like heavenly nectar right now. And dammit you were gonna spoon too. Nothing like having a dangerous vigilante hold you with stupidly muscular arms like you were the most precious thing in the world. 

Unfortunately having the place to yourself the past two days meant your work had exploded across the living room too and you found yourself shuffling through both Jason’s files and your sketches searching for one you swore was right there a minute ago–

Rapid buzzing caught your attention and you darted to retrieve your phone. “Hello?”

“Hello!” A bright but gravelly voice answered. "I'm looking for a Mr. Robin." 

"There's no one here by that name, sorry." You answered automatically, distracted by those damn missing papers. 

"Ah I forgot! He goes by a new name now. Mr. Hood. Red Hood." Your blood froze as the voice giggled hysterically, folder slipping from your fingers. 

"No, uh, still no one here by that name." Praying your voice was steady, you fumbled for the panic button on the bracelet Jason insisted you wear. And you’d made fun of him for it.

“Perfect.” The voice had a predatory tone now and  _ why the fuck hadn’t you hung up yet. _ “He’ll be so–” 

You hung up, cutting the voice off. Skin crawling, you glanced around the apartment.  _ Roof _ . Jason was on his way, promised he’d drop everything and get you the moment the signal was activated, get to the roof so he can see you.

Before you could even take a step the window shattered, a woman with pigtails springing in. "That wasn’t very nice hanging up on Mista J!" She scolded. You grabbed the empty mug on the coffee table and hurled it at her head. “Whoop!” She barely dodged it, ceramic shattering against the wall. “Lady, you’re not a very good host!” 

“You weren’t invited.” You snarled, slipping away from her grab and punching her right in the face. Jason was going to be so proud.

“Now, now ladies!” That voice chuckled from behind you. “Let’s all calm down hmm? The guest of honor isn’t even here yet.” You spun, barely glimpsing a purple suit before a puff of gas exploded in your face. “Still so much to prepare!” A dark cackle filled your mind as you collapsed to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final part up next week!


End file.
